Draco Malfoy, Broken

20 - Choices

Flouish and Blotts was packed with Hogwarts students, buying their books for school. Draco uneasily let go of Harry's hand and pulled his hood further down.

"Maybe I should just wait out here. I just need the second book for Defense Against the Dark Arts," Draco offered, nervously.

Harry paused, considering. "I don't like leaving you out here alone."

"I'm not a child, Potter. Just go get your books and I'll be right here," he growled, indignantly.

Harry frowned and pulled him to small alcove beside the shop. He pulled off his bag. "Come here."

Draco moved forward at his command and Harry threw a silvery, silky fabric over him. His body disappeared. Harry flipped the hood over and looked around to make sure no one had seen them. Draco immediately felt safer... and even unrestrained. He was really invisible. No one could find him.

"Don't wander off. The cloak can't be summoned and no one can cast a spell to find you," Harry explained.

Draco marveled in the fact that Harry had let him use his Invisibility Cloak. "I think it's a little unnecessary."

"You were the one who was worried when we came here. It's not just the local rabble you have to worry about now. You did see those wanted posters, right? The Lestranges are still out there causing problems. They've hunted down a few turncoat Voldemort supporters already."

Draco flinched at his uncles' surname, but Harry couldn't see him. "Is that why you won't leave me by myself?" Draco grunted, slightly surprised by the information.

"Yeah, that and I told you that I wouldn't let anything happen to you. It's hard to do when I'm not here. I almost considered letting you use it the whole time, but it's hard to shop with the cloak on. Stay right here, I mean it," he ordered.

"Okay. Thanks," Draco said, alarmed by the possessive edge in Harry's voice.

Harry looked around anxious still, but left him. Draco waited for about ten minutes for Harry to return. He saw a few younger Slytherins, some now sixth year Hufflepuffs and Terry Boot and Michael Corner from their year. A few others he vaguely recognized as Gryffindors came and went.

Harry came out and back over to him, looking flustered. "Draco?" he sounded worried.

"I'm here," he whispered, "I like it when you're nervous."

"Shut up," Harry said, blushing slightly.

Draco smiled widely at his reaction. The cloak was awesome. He could openly stare at Harry and he be none the wiser.

"It's a good thing you didn't go in. Quite a few stuck their noses in my face. They figured out who I was. Terry thankfully told them off. Might need to thank him for that. Anything else you need? Robes? Quills?"

"I got plenty," Draco said.

"Ollivanders?" Harry asked, with some hope.

"I don't want to go there," Draco hissed. "The man was a prisoner in my basement for a year. I doubt he wants to see me."

"He testified for you, you know?"

"Still," Draco said.

"Fine. I'd Apparate us back, but we're a little close to the shop's wards."

"What can't Apparate through them?"

"There's too many different ones around here, unless you want to get splinched? I'm all for trying."

"Prat," Draco huffed.

"Git. Come on, let's just walk. Stay under the cloak. Word's bound to have gotten around that I'm here. It's too bad you're so bloody tall or we both could be under it."

"Hark who's talking? You do know you've gained some inches on me roughing it in the wild?"

"Huh. Alright, if anything happens, you can floo to my house. It's near the Leaky."

"Thanks, I've been here before... wait... are you coming up with contingencies?"

"I spent a year "roughing it" Malfoy. People have been trying to kill me since before I was born. Exit strategies are instinctual at this point."

Draco was struck by how much thought Potter put into a minor thing like a shopping trip. He walked next to Harry, who kept reaching out to touch the cloak.

"I haven't run off."

"Sorry," Harry said, gruffly.

But Draco could see the sweat accumulating on his brow. His eyes darted back and forth, looking for unseen danger. His hand twitching and hovering over his wand. Hyper-vigilant, Draco's mind helpfully supplied. Excessively paranoid.

"Are you okay?" Draco whispered, concerned.

"Yeah. It's hard. They know I'm here. They could just want to thank me or they could want to kill me. One of the many reasons I don't like coming here. We're almost out." Potter jinxed them, metaphorically.

"Harry?" a surprised voice said loudly, drawing the attention of a handful of onlookers.

Potter swore under his breath and turned to face Granger and Weasley. Draco almost swore, too, before he remembered that he was invisible.

"I thought that was the pack I got you. How are you?" she asked, concerned.

"Okay," Harry muttered. He lifted his hood and looked at Ron, uneasily. The former best friends could barely look at the other in the eye.

"You already got your books?" Hermione asked, clearly trying to break the tension.

"Yes, it's pretty busy in there."

"Did you get Malfoy's books, too?" Weasley asked, glaring at him.

Harry stared at him. "Why would I do that?"

"He's broke... doesn't have enough money to buy his shit. I imagine that he'll need to leech off someone, since he's your new best friend."

"He has all his books from last year, Ron. His mother works for a living. Why are you pushing this?"

"He's finally getting what he deserves and you're saving him. It's called karma, Harry."

"It's called being an asshole. Karma has nothing to do with it."

"Boys, come on. We're friends, remember? You guys don't really mean it."

"Friends... yeah we're "friends", aren't we Harry?" the Weasel said, in a mocking tone.

Draco watched Harry's shoulders drop. "I'm always your friend, Ron."

"And Malfoy's too, I reckon?"

"Yes," Harry declared and Draco's heart swelled.

"It's one or the other Harry. You can't be on two sides of the fence."

"It's not that..." Harry started.

"He's a Death Eater!" Weasley growled. "That shithead broke your nose, told Rita Skeeter all that shit about Hagrid, tried to kill me, you and Hermione, let Death Eaters in to kill us, helped them kill Dumbledore, got my brother mauled, and taunted and mocked me every damn year we were at school for being poor and worthless, While he was having a go at my mother! And I have barely scratched the surface!"

Draco's blood froze. It was like he was back in the courtroom at his first trial being read the charges. They just kept going and going, and this time every one of them was true. He had nothing to defend himself from what he had done to Weasley.

"It's in the past Ron. You have to let it go," Harry whispered.

"Yeah... I'll let it go... I'll let it go when he gets what's due," Weasley haughtily declared.

"Ron, he's already gone through so much."

"Yeah, for what he did as a Death Eater. Not for what he did to me, to us. For six years, he ran his fucking mouth, bullying everyone he could. Now, it's his turn to face the music. He's the one with nothing, no family and is fucking worthless."

"I'm not going to let you...."

"Me? Oh no, not me, Harry. I don't need to do anything but sit back and watch! And have a right laugh, too," he said, cruelly.

"That's... wrong...."

"Yeah. No one stopped him, did they? They all sang that fucking song, didn't they? Fuck him."

"And me?" Harry hedged.

"Whenever you wanna stop being BFFs with him... I'll be waiting."

"I wouldn't hold your breath after that speech, Ron."

"Yeah, figured. It's your choice though, Harry," the Weasel sneered.

Harry turned around and nearly walked into Draco, but he scrambled out of the way.

"Harry, wait!" Hermione came over, out of earshot of her boyfriend. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. You don't need to apologize."

"It's just... I don't want to lose you," she said, misery apparent on her face.

"You'll never lose me, Hermione. Just stay with him, please. I'll be alright."

"No, you won't. Who's going to make sure you eat? Get up in the morning? I'm not blind, Harry. There's empty bottles all over the house."

"Not anymore... I asked Kreacher to get rid of everything," Harry muttered. "He happily obliged."

Draco cracked a smile at that news. He hadn't seen Potter hungover for several days.

"That's... great Harry! I'm really happy for you!" she said, hugging him.

"Thanks... I'm sorry that I made you worry."

"Don't Harry. It's been rough... on everyone." Hermione lowered her eyes and quietly said, "He's here, isn't he? You've got that backpack for a reason."

Both Draco and Harry tensed, but Potter nodded.

Hermione said, aloud, "Please don't think he speaks for the both of us."

Draco swallowed hard, unable to respond in any way. He watched Potter's reaction and smiled as Potter's eyes looked at his honorary sister. Harry was proud. He loved her and missed her already as she pulled away.

"Thank you," Potter said, his voice thick with appreciation.

She nodded and walked over to Ron, who took her hand, despite her clear loyalty to Harry. Even the Weasel looked back at his non-friend with longing. They were meant to be together. The Golden Trio... the dream team who hunted down Voldemort's soul and removed his evil from the world. They both had saved Potter so many times and fought at his side every step of the way.

What was he? Potter's pity case. The Death Eater who couldn't kill. The son of an executed Death Eater who owed his life and sanity to the Chosen One. Draco barely helped the Golden Trio and it was so subtle that hardly anyone noticed. His family name was a curse, now. He would always be the traitor who betrayed both sides, hated by all. He was nothing.

He felt Potter's hand touch the cloak. "Hey, it's okay. Let's get out of here."

The mob finally keyed onto Harry, though.

"It's Harry Potter!"

"I love you, Harry!"

"Marry me!"

"Potter! Will you sign my Chocolate Frog card of you?"

"No, sorry. I have to get home! Thank you!" Harry yelled and pushed Draco, invisible, through the crowd.

"Harry! Why'd you save that Death Eater?"

"Kill all the Death Eaters!"

"Harry kiss me!"

Harry did not respond to them, just pressed forward, reaching the brick wall of the Leaky Cauldron. They slipped out and onto the street of muggle London. Harry steered them to an alleyway and pulled off the cloak.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, looking at him.

"Yes? Why?" Draco said, automatically. He wasn't sure what he was feeling.

"Nothing, I just... that was intense."

"Are you okay?" Draco asked looking at the pained eyes of the Savior.

"I can handle, Ron. It's not as though we've never been at ends before. It's not just about you."

"Yeah right."

"I said don't worry about it. Look's clear, let's go back."

Draco took his hand, again, as Potter pulled him into the Apparition. They landed in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place.

"Why'd we come here?" he wondered aloud.

"I... umm... need to clean out my trunk. Plus there's only so much we can do in your mum's flat. Maybe we can go up to the attic. You might be able to provide some insight into the... heirlooms."

"Sure, sounds fun and interesting... dangerous."

"Most things seem to want to kill me. I levitated most of it up there. I made Kreacher promise to not go up there anymore."

"Why did you make him promise... you can just order him not to go?"

"Well... I won't do that. He won't let me free him. He won't accept money or days off, so I settled for never giving him another order," Harry said, walking up the stairs.

"That's... considerate?" Draco commented uncertainly.

Potter chuckled. "Hermione made valid points that we were taking advantage of their kind nature. And since Dobby died in my arms after he saved us, I couldn't dishonor his memory by owning a slave, willing or not."

"Huh," Draco said and frowned. "Dobby... he was our elf."

"A much abused one," Harry stated flatly. He was gauging Draco's response.

"Quite. My father's doing. It was the ones after Dobby that got it worse."

"You said that... you used Imperious on them," Harry said, cautiously and stopping on the third floor landing.

"Yes... I..." he started disjointedly. "My father would give them a command and I had to make them disobey it. It was very distressing for them, as you could imagine. It got better for them when Voldemort stayed. He couldn't stand them. He preferred to make my mother and me wait on him."

Draco shook the memories away and Potter held his hands. "I'm sorry I asked."

"I should get things out eventually," he muttered.

"One step at a time," Harry said and pulled him up the last staircase and into Harry's bedroom. Draco's eyes widened in surprise as he saw red everywhere and some lewd posters of muggle women on motorcycles.

"They're Sirius's, if you're wondering. This use to be his room."

"Not your taste in décor?"

"Not really," Harry smirked slyly. Draco jolted slightly, but avoided responding to his answer.

Potter began to pull out everything from his Hogwarts chest, chucking several Order of Merlins and awards in a corner. He pulled out his old texts and picked the ones he'd need then started sorting through the parchment, ink, potions ingredients, cloths and quills determining what he needed and didn't need. He added his new books and supplies and organized everything else as best he could.

Draco watched in silence and took the time to observe Potter's living arrangements. It certainly was Spartan. He also had no decorations, or at least ones that appeared to be his. No photos, souvenirs or collectibles. Draco thought Potter could have easily displayed his Order of Merlin. He thoroughly earned it. There was a photo album in his trunk that he saw, too. But Potter left it hidden. His floor had a splattering of dirty laundry from recent days and his dresser had drawers that were open as though Harry had just pulled out clothes as he needed them.

The four-poster bed was wrapped in red curtains that were well-aged. Also Sirius's, he assumed. He had to laugh that the eldest son of the Black family was so blatantly a Gryffindor. It smacked a level of rebellion that Draco had never dreamed. Well... he could have. Lucius would have skinned him alive if he'd even voiced the thought, and probably done worse if he were actually sorted in the red and gold house. He was so fanatically praying for Slytherin when he was sorted, least his father hear otherwise. Lucius would have dragged out of school and probably beat him within an inch of his life before shipping him off to Durmstang.

Draco tensed up from the very thought of his father getting his hands on him, again. His heart stammered to a halt. He was slipping back, but Potter was already up and turning him toward him.

"Draco, what's wrong?"

Draco stared into the bright green eyes of the Savior finding some stability. No doubt Potter was confused what had triggered an attack. Draco just kept taking deep breaths, keeping the anxiety down. Harry grabbed his hand and bought it to his chest. Potter's heart beat at the steady rate of a marathon runner. Draco tried to get into a similar rhythm.

"Stay with me. I'm not distracting you enough. I'm sorry... can you tell me what happened?" Potter said, quietly.

Draco sighed, returning to normal. "It wasn't anything big. I was just thinking about your godfather's choice of decorations and what my father would have done if I had ever rebelled so... dramatically."

"Oh...."

"They had to be at least somewhat decent parents that he survived embarrassing the Black family as much as he had."

"I don't know. We could go up to the attic and have a talk with her screaming portrait."

"Isn't that where you suggested we go to look at the heirlooms?" Draco asked, unable to hide the curiosity in his voice.

"Everything is in the attic. I didn't know what was good or bad, so I shoved it all up there. What was left, anyway. Mundungus Fletcher had pinched a lot of stuff before we caught him."

Draco nodded. Potter let go of his hand and he missed the warmth. "Sorry about Fletcher."

"I don't even know what he took. It's not as though this was really my house until after the war. It's more that he betrayed Sirius's memory."

"Still...."

"I understand. Hey, I can finish this later... wanna go to the attic?"

"Sure," Draco said, intrigued.

Potter took down some wards as they climbed the pull-down hatch on the fourth floor ceiling. Some dust fell and there were cobwebs across the entry way. The Gryffindor went first, leading him up the rickety ladder.

"It's a little stuffy up here."

"What does your house elf do?" Draco asked sarcastically, as he brushed the spider's webs off his hair.

"I don't want him to do anything, but he usually Apparates me back to my bed when I get too drunk to walk the steps."

"Well, he shouldn't. Waking up in a pile of your own vomit might have made you stop drinking sooner."

Potter laughed. "Probably not. I didn't have a reason to stop before."

Draco looked at him. It was easy to believe he was referring to him. Potter waved his hand invitingly over the piles of neglected Black memorabilia. Draco looked at the first pile. He didn't touch any of it. His father had taught him to never touch anything older than him without knowing exactly what it was. He felt with his core for the tenor of the objects in a crate. There was wards around a small wooden box. The rest had fairly minor hexes attached to them.

Draco levitated the wooden box out wandlessly and set it on a table. Potter watched him with rapt attention.

"That's the musical box that nearly killed us all with its eerie music. Don't open it."

"You mean don't open it until I remove the hexes?" But Draco grimaced. He hadn't brought his mother's wand.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm trying to remove the spells."

"Why don't you use your wand... it'd be easier, right?"

"I... umm... forgot it at home," Draco said, embarrassed.

"You didn't bring your wand? We could have been attacked, you know?"

"You promised nothing would happen, remember? Besides, I can't exactly defend myself without breaking my probation."

"You can always defend yourself, Malfoy. You have an inherent right of self-defense."

"I'm not taking that risk." He lowered his head. He didn't need to bring to voice his fear of going back to prison. "But be quiet, let me be for a moment. I want to figure this out."

Potter kept his mouth shut and they both took a seat on the floor while he focused on the box. He stared at it for at least 30 minutes. Potter impressed him by keeping his mouth closed and hardly fidgeting. Finally, he found the right words and the box clicked open, silent.

"How did you do that?" Potter said, smiling.

"Concentration. But I only removed the spell on the music. It was an Enticement Hex, meant for inducing sleep." Draco lifted the lid and the music still played, but Harry tensed as though ready to smash the box. "It's okay. It's actually rather soothing."

"Says you. I still remember when it tried to kill us all."

"Hmm..." Draco said, still staring at the box.

"What's up? You removed the hex, right?"

"Yeah... but why was there a hex, Potter? Use your head. Someone put it on it for a reason. But there's something on it I can't figure it out. It's not responding to anything." After 15 more minutes, Draco set it aside frustrated. "I can't get it."

"Want to try my wand?"

Draco lifted his head to stare at the Chosen One. Did he really just offer me his wand?

"Umm... no thanks... I don't think it will help. It's beyond my knowledge. But you have a nice music box, now. I have a feeling that it will play forever, being meant to starve its victims to death through suggestive sleep."

He handed it to Potter who looked at it and back up to him. "Thanks."

"No problem... let's see what else is in that crate. I didn't feel anything else very sinister."

Potter pulled out the remaining items out. An Order of Merlin, pictures of dead Black relatives complaining about being in the box, and some biting crystal-ware. They went on to other piles. Draco managed to find some galleons hidden in a heavy metal vase. Potter gave them to him, since he found them. There was a severed troll's leg that was filled with an umbrellas, for some reason. Another box contained an entire collection of house elf heads.

"I didn't want to just throw them out. I managed to get them off the wall... but..." Harry said, frowning.

"Sure. Didn't want the Black family china either?"

"No or the bottles of blood that make me think the Black family had a vampire in its line."

"No, they just traded with them. Pure-bloods would keep the blood around to serve their vampire guests, if they so choose. Some more... traditional families would cut open their own skin to offer a drink. It's a good way to curry favor."

"Do I want to know how you know that?"

"Probably not. My father did trade with them. He got a very good deal once when I was 10. Children's blood makes them go crazy, you see. At least he didn't let them feed, so much as let my blood drip into a goblet."

"Sometimes... I wish I had a time-turner so I can go back in time to beat the shit out of your dad," Harry said, almost flabbergasted by the new low set by the one, and only, Lucius Malfoy.

Draco gave him a wiry smile.

"There's something in this box that carries a heavy amount of spellwork," Draco said.

"How the hell do you know that? I mean..." Potter grunted.

Draco laughed lightly, carefully pulled out some snake doorknockers and Goblin-minted goblets. He finally levitated out a single gold ring and set it on the table.

"That was Sirius's father's ring. I remember," Harry said, getting closer.

"Don't put it on."

"Are you kidding? That was how Dumbledore would have died. I'm not that stupid." Harry grunted.

Draco grimaced at the name. "Family rings are keyed to that ancestral line. So it would have helped protect you...."

"If I was actually part of the bloodline?" Harry finished, dryly.

"Yeah...."

"So wait... would it work for you? You're mum was a Black."

"I-I don't know, honestly. But rings are dangerous."

"Yeah... what's this one do? Turn you invisible?" Harry laughed.

"Invisible? I doubt it."

"I was joking."

"Usually, rings carry standard curses for thieves and imposters and protection spells for the wearer. Nothing against an Unforgivable, but protection against smaller hexes and blood-letting spells. I've heard some that allow the giver to trace the wearer, too."

"Hmm... sounds stalkerish."

"I'm sure it's meant for more finding your loved one than following them. But I could spend a week staring at this thing trying to figure it out and still not find all the jinxes placed on it." Draco said, setting down the ring and touching a curtain that was over a picture frame. "What's this?" He had felt no spells but a broken Permanent-Sticking Charm. Impressive to break one for sure.

"What... no!" Harry said, too late.

The curtains burst open revealed a shrieking, horrifying, skin and bones witch. Draco had to cover his ears, as the portrait witch wailed.

"FILTH! BLOOD-TRAITORS! HOW DARE YOU DEFILE THE MOST ANCIENT AND NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK!"

Draco backed away from the portrait, fear apparent in his eyes. Potter stepped forward, trying to close the curtains.

"YOU! YOU EXILED ME BACK UP TO THIS ROOM! JUST LIKE MY HUSBAND! HALF-BLOOD RETURN ME TO THE ENTRANCE HALL!"

"Shut up! You know I considered just tossing you into the fireplace?"

"YOU WOULDN'T DARE! CURSE YOU MUDBLOOD TRAITOR! JUST LIKE MY GOOD-FOR-NOTHING SON!"

"Don't talk about Sirius like that!"

"Potter, you're talking to a painting," Draco pointed out, quietly.

"YOU!" the crazed-eyes of witch turned to him, pointing her shriveled finger at him and screaming. "BETRAYER OF OUR FAMILY! BLOOD-TRAITOR! WORTHLESS, SPINELESS COWARD! YOU BROKE OUR LINE! DESTROYED TWO FAMILY NAMES! UNNATURAL ABOMINATION! YOU DISDAIN MY HOUSE BY BREATHING!"

Draco froze, blood chilling. This person, a Black relative, likely Sirius Black's mother, knew who he was and what he was.

"STUPEFY!" Harry roared.

The painting fell silent and the curtains were forced shut. Suddenly hands were on him, as Potter pulled him tight to his chest. His arms wrapped around his back, whispering reassuring words in his ear. Draco shook from the unexpected attack. Everything the crazy portrait said was true. He was blood-traitor. He was a homosexual, a coward and poor. He was the last Malfoy... probably one of the last of the Blacks. The last pureblood anyway. Though Teddy Lupin was technically of the bloodline, too.

"Don't listen to her... she says worse about me, especially after I got her off the wall," Harry murmured. Then he pulled back to look into Draco's watery eyes. "It's okay to be who you are... there's absolutely nothing wrong with it."

"I still am breaking the line... my name will die with me," Draco whispered, looking away.

"We could..." Harry paused. "What about surrogates? If you want to... carry on your line? Or adoption?"

"Who would trust me with a child or consent to it? I'd have nothing to provide him."

"Right now, maybe. You're only 18, Draco. You don't have to worry about this immediately. One thing at a time. Okay? Besides, I'm the one with a child already. Save your worrying for me."

"Sorry," he said, his head still down.

"S'okay. Let's go downstairs. That's enough adventuring for me."

Potter dragged him over to the ladder, grabbing the music box. Draco smiled, despite how awful he felt. He was surprised a long-dead relative was able to bring him down so low. He shuttered when he thought of school. At least none of them knew of his... perversion.

"What are you thinking?" Potter demanded, when his feet hit the fourth floor.

Draco shrugged in response. But Potter pulled his head up to stare at him. "Nothing."

"I don't believe you. You're trembling."

Harry was always right. Prat. "I was just imagining how hard school would be if... if they knew."

Potter put his hand on his shoulder. "They don't and it shouldn't matter. It's none of their business who you like. It's completely natural."

"No, it's not!" Draco yelled, petulantly.

"Draco...."

"No, Potter. Most people know it's... wrong. I shouldn't think that way."

"That's not true! There's only a small few who are arrogant and ignorant who believe that bullshit. The rest are fucking cowards who go along with them to avoid alienation. You aren't alone, Draco. There's a lot of people who are homosexual. It's not a choice."

"I'm a pureblood."

"That's your father talking, Draco. He... taught you the wrong things. He hurt you, abused you in every way. Don't believe what he told you. You're just a person and you like guys. You shouldn't be ashamed by it."

"Yeah right. I'm sure you'd go yelling through the halls at Hogwarts announcing your deviances to the world if you were in my shoes."

"I wouldn't go that far, but I'd be damned if I'd let anyone bring me down. Remember when they thought I was a deranged attention-whore in our fifth year? Or the Heir of Slytherin? I didn't let them cower me."

"That's the difference between me and you. You fight back," Draco mumbled, looking away.

Potter grimaced. "Hey, it's not about fighting... it's about holding your head up. You did that when we were in school. What happened?"

"They broke me..." Draco breathed and tears streaked down his face.

His chest started ripping uncontrollable sobs as Potter wrapped his arms around him, again. He pulled him into his bedroom and into his bed. Draco laid face down into Harry's pillow and Harry got in, next to him. He just keep rubbing his back and trying to reassure him. Draco couldn't find any solace though. He was shattered... a shadow of his former self. He'd never be able to look an advisory in the eye. He'd never be able to stand tall with his head up, despite the arduous upbringing his father inflicted upon him.

Broken....

Evidently, his tears steadily slowed and dried. His wrenching cries subsided. He still shook and his mouth was now welded shut. He wasn't able to speak. For once he wasn't trapped in his past, he was stuck in the present... his mind punishing him for being... abnormal. And for being weak, emotional, and defenseless. He shivered even more when he realized that he'd be a shivering ball on the floor if Harry hadn't been there. Was Potter going to have to save him forever?

But Potter was sacrificing his own happiness, his own friends for him. He heard Weasley. All Harry had to do was say they weren't friends... that he wouldn't keep saving him... and the Golden Trio would be back together. How easy it would be to fix everything? He just had to tell Potter to stay away. Harry'd make up with his best friend and everything would go back to normal. Potter would be back with his Gryffindors and Draco... Draco would be back in the dungeons with the Slytherins where he belonged. Even if they may or may not beat the crap out of him. Slytherins are about power and influence, and clearly, he had none, now.

He knew he could count on Blaise, Daphne and Theo to help watch his back. In fact, they'd be in a better position to as they were in Slytherin and they were in nearly all his classes. Harry was only in a select few. He couldn't watch him... protect him. He'd be slaughtered the moment he was separated from Harry, which would happen just about every other class period, he reasoned.

It seemed like an easy choice. Harry would go back to his friends, his family, and Draco would return to the Slytherins. The world would be righted. Order restored. Slytherins and Gryffindors aren't meant to be friends. Shit, their houses would be more hell-bent to rip both of them down. They'd crucify Harry for even associating with him, if they already weren't going to, just for getting him out of prison. Just like at the Diagon Alley, some had praised him, others knew Potter had gotten him out. It'd be the same at Hogwarts. Harry had to keep his image. He was the Chosen One and the Chosen One wasn't supposed to consort with a convicted Death Eater.

But Harry believed it didn't matter... he'd sacrifice himself to whatever end. He'd never give Draco up. He'd let the world tear him apart before he'd let down his friends. Draco couldn't let that happen. He couldn't. He owed Harry everything: his life, his soul, and his mind. To ask Harry to give up everything for him, was wrong. Harry deserved his fame and glory. He deserved proper friends. Friends that he, Draco, had hurt. Weasley was well within his rights to take it out on him, with everything he had done to him.

But Draco's heart already ached with the thought of leaving Potter's side. This week was the best week he had ever had in his whole miserable life. Harry was amazing. He was kind, patient and caring. Draco felt safe, protected. Harry brought him out of the darkness, saved him from a fate worse than death. Then he pulled him out of his memories and so carefully controlled what he said so it would not hurt him. Draco's eyes watered again, as his heart filled with loss. He knew the choice he would make. The Gryffindor way, not the Slytherin one. He would make the right choice, the better choice for Harry. The hard part would be convincing the Chosen One to leave him alone. He trembled. The fractured part of him was crying in pain already.

Potter forcibly turned him toward him onto his back and moved the hair out of Draco's face. His heart fluttered wildly by the small gesture. He almost shivered in with content. He loved it when he touched his hair. The Savior was hovering inches above his face for the second time today. Draco's breath got caught in his throat as he stared into Potter's cautious, concerned, and tired eyes. Potter had barely been sleeping since he convinced him to stop drinking.

"You aren't the only one who is broken, Draco," Harry finally whispered.

He dropped his head on Draco's shoulder. His hand was across his stomach and Harry laid against him, on his side. He was out in a second. Draco couldn't help but smile and blush, before he too, fell into an easy, peaceful sleep.

The joys of two jobs... anyway, I'll have another one ready tomorrow if I'm not Summoned to work. 

Next one is fluffy!